


What Does Brotherhood Mean?

by Lula Belle (Skyriia)



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Gang Violence, Gen, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-19 01:27:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14226117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyriia/pseuds/Lula%20Belle
Summary: Yoo Youngjae, a star detective is chosen for an important mission: bring Soul Connection down or die trying.  What he discovers along the way will change everything.  And his reaction to discovering the world truly isn't black and white will define who he is and his place in the world.  The question is, can he survive long enough to realize it?





	What Does Brotherhood Mean?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by their One Shot music video. Definitely not fully edited so if you see any issues let me know.

For some people, walking alone in certain areas of Seoul, even in the middle of the afternoon, was not safe. Yoo Youngjae was one of those people. He found himself just outside of Hongdae carrying nothing more than a wallet with a couple of dollars and a few membership cards for several stores throughout Seoul. Mostly chain stores that he rarely visited because what kind of special agent really had time to visit Chanel and Dunkin Donuts that often? Apparently, he liked to pretend that he could. Oddly enough, he had developed an aversion to Dunkin Donuts in the last few years, found it too sweet. His therapist liked to think it had something to do with Youngjae’s past. Youngjae liked to think that was a load of bullshit and his therapist was off his rocker. Yet, despite the nerves, Youngjae continued to fiddle with these cards in his pocket and walked on. And as he moved along Dunkin Donuts was starting to sound more and more tempting--at least compared to what he had to do.

Off the main road, there is a small strip of old buildings, mostly food stores. However, there was one antique shop well known for being inhabited by, despite various legal warnings, members of Dragon, a well-known gang, a gang almost as powerful as another gang within Seoul; Soul Connection. And Youngjae had made a deal with them. It was simple really, lure the infamous Jepp Blackman, leader of Soul Connection, known for taking in the occasional stray, to save a helpless boy on his territory and infiltrate his ranks. Simple. So why were his palms sweaty? Why was his gut twisted in knots? No, knots were not appropriate; it was twisted like a boa constrictor around its prey. Regardless he continued his slow trek to the store, whose sign did not exist anymore and cobwebs hung in the corner of the door. Seven steps outside the door were six men, all well built with their hands in their pockets, one leaned against the rotting wooden post a cigarette hanging loosely between his lips. Youngjae’s stomach twisted more but he kept his face straight; he was the pride of the FBI, the best undercover agent of his generation and this case would be no different. This one probably would be more painful than the last but still just another day at work. 

Stopping in front of the group, he held each of their gazes for a moment and, a subtle nod from the man with a cigarette in his mouth, the show was on. The man stepped forward as the other five parted for him, dropping the cigarette and crushing it under his foot, he spoke, “What’s a kid like you doing in a place like this?” 

Youngjae almost felt insulted but he carefully took a step back, knowing not to blow his cover. He was the youngest special agent on the force in nearly twenty years, next to his father, and he would prove he deserved that title with this case. Even if his pride was wounded in the process. “I just want to get a figurine for my mother,” he kept his voice soft as he eyed the others circling him. 

The other grinned, his surprisingly white teeth shining brightly as he stepped around to stand next to Youngjae and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Instinctively, Youngjae stiffened and tried to shift away from him, reaching for a gun that wasn’t there. “Now you can’t go in the front. All the best deals are on the back. I know a guy.”

Pretending to be oblivious, the young officer looked up at him, “Really?”

“Oh yeah, we’ll show you, right boys?” The others vocalized their agreement and various members of the entourage patted Youngjae’s back hard as they half dragged him to the area behind the antique store.

As soon as feet touched dry dirt, they shoved Youngjae into the dusty ground and delivered a swift kick to his stomach. Then dragged up and against the wall, another kick in the stomach knocked the wind from him and he swung at the assailant landing a solid hit against their left cheek. Hand throbbing, Youngjae turned to the smoking one and smirked a bit, “So no figurine then?” Before he could give another snide remark, they tackled him to the ground. He accidentally took in a breath as his face hit the dirt, taking in a mouthful of dust and was coughing as they pulled him up, hands held behind his back at an odd angle. One swift punch to the shoulder had him crying out in pain and he was left with no time to catch his breath as they hit his left temple. A slight stinging against the wind told him there was a scratch there. Another hit to the same temple and the scratch widened. He felt his vision blacken around the edges for a moment. Two more hits to his jaw and stomach and he realized this really could get him killed and he should have brought back up. Or at the very least not appear quite so helpless. He could get out of this with some effort--if he wasn’t so banged up.

Foregoing the helpless act, for the time being, Youngjae stomped with as much force as he could on the gangster holding onto his arm. To his relief his arms were released, Youngjae spun and delivered a harsh punch right on the nose of his previous captor. However, six on one, no matter how good he was, posed a great threat. Accumulating several cuts on his knuckles, another on his temple and he was certain he broke a rib after one slammed a board against his side; he started to wonder where exactly this Blackman character was. The information from the office said that he knew what was going on at all times on his territory.

“The hell are you doing Hwang?” 

The cliché response, speak of the devil, was on the tip of Youngjae’s tongue before one final punch connected with his cheek and he felt his teeth tear into that sensitive skin. Stumbling back, he fell against the wall and one hand gingerly touched his stomach, testing the injured rib. Hwang, the one who reeked of smoke, stepped forward grinning and still holding the board he hit Yongjae with chortled, then replied, “Dragon business Blackman. This little bitch has been mouthing off to my boys. You’d do it too.”

Looking up, Youngjae found Jepp Blackman standing with a much taller boy with dark, bluish hair. The file said that this one was Zelo but nothing else was known of the member who hardly left Jepp Blackman’s side. It was assumed Zelo held a high rank but nothing was certain with this gang. The smirk on Jepp’s face and the glare in his eyes sent a shiver down Youngjae’s spine. He had heard of his bone-chilling gaze but seeing it in person was unsettling. “Not on someone else’s territory...unless I wanted a war.” Although they were outnumbered it was clear who was in control. Anyone could tell just from the look on Blackman’s face. 

For a moment, Hwang looked genuinely nervous. Understandably so. Jepp Blackman and his gang were known for taking no prisoners. Which was one of the reasons the precinct could never get any information. They rarely brought about war, but when they did, no one defeated them and their allies. It had been cause for trouble for Youngjae’s division more than once. “Blackman; let it slide just once. It’s one bratty kid.”

As expected, Jepp shook his head and stepped forward, one hand reaching for his hip where Youngjae saw the tiniest flash of a gun. However, to Youngjae’s surprise, Jepp didn’t draw the gun. Instead, he placed his hand on his hip, looping his thumb into his belt loop. “You know how this works, Hwang; you let one slip and then everyone tries to walk all over you. Then it’s nothing but work, work, work all the time. Now get out before you really piss me off.” 

The sneer on Jepp’s face seemed to be enough warning and, after shoving Youngjae a few more times, the six men trotted off back towards Hongdae. Waiting a few seconds, Youngjae turned to Jepp, gave a small bow in thanks, automatically wincing as his injuries protested, and turned to walk away. As expected, Jepp was by Youngjae in just a few strides and placed his hand gruffly on the younger boy’s shoulder. The stench of smoke was heavy on him and Youngjae could not help but wonder if all gangsters smoked. Did movies actually get this one thing right? “Hold up kid, you can’t leave just yet.”

Youngjae had expected this response and was already working out a plan to get these two to take him back to their hideout and the real mission would start from there. But damn if he didn’t feel light headed and annoyed by the itchy drying blood on his cheek. “Why not? They left and I need to go to the hospital.” For emphasis, he reached up and placed his hand to the cut on his temple. The bleeding had slowed considerably but it was still enough to leave a trail of red on his hand, in fact, he was lucky his eye was unaffected.

“You go to the hospital and they ask questions; they ask questions and that creates problems for everyone.” Jepp grabbed Youngjae’s other shoulder and roughly turned him so he was facing the clearly annoyed leader. “And I hate problems kids.”

Seeing his glare only a few inches from his face was more unnerving than seeing it directed towards one of the Dragon faction leaders. Nevertheless, Youngjae stood his ground, keeping his eyes locked on Jepp’s death glare and his shoulders square, despite his pain. “I won’t talk if that’s what you want. But I really need to get cleaned up and any other option just burdens you Mr…” he trailed off as if unsure as to who he was. Youngjae’s whole cover was that he was new to town after all. 

The response or maybe something in Youngjae’s eyes seemed to please the leader and he let Youngjae go. Taking two steps back he pointed at Youngjae and spoke in that same gruff voice, “You talk; you’ll have me to deal with. Keep an eye out kid, you might regret getting on my radar.” A final smirk and a shove towards the main road dismissed Youngjae and Jepp turned back to Zelo who had not taken his eyes off the officer the entire time. Youngjae found himself staring at the pair as they walked off, talking just low enough that he was unable to understand what they were discussing. 

Phase one delayed. At least until after a visit to the hospital. 

Annoyed, Youngjae made his slow trek to the nearby hospital, unsure as to how he was going to bring himself back to Jepp’s attention. If no Soul Connection members came to round him up at the hospital he would have to figure something out. There were several ways but most included him getting into fights again, ones that involved winning, but would be annoying regardless. Eyes on the concrete, he muttered incomprehensibly as he turned towards the subway station exit and entrance. 

In that stairwell were the six Dragon members from before, all of them smoking cigarettes now and the smell brought the special agent’s eyes up to the men, the smirks on their faces making his mood worse. “So, did the little officer get to do his precious job?” The demeaning tone in which Hwang spoke, along with the purposeful blowing of smoke into Youngjae’s face from the others broke the last column holding up Youngjae’s patience. It was one thing for his plan to not work out as perfectly as expected; it was another thing for his pride to be attacked twice by the same group. Without a single thought, he shoved Hwan hard enough for him to stumble down the stairs a bit and growled, “In case you forgot, I can arrest you. All of you, right now.” 

“Yeah, you and what army? We already kicked your ass. Bet you're feeling pretty light headed too hu-”

Youngjae’s lightheadedness was beside the point now. The point was that he had just punched the Seoul faction leader of the Dragons square in the mouth with five lackeys watching and he really didn’t care one bit. Not even when all five tackled him and they bounced down the stairs in an angry mass did he care. This was one way to get Soul Connections attention again after all 

Though he did remember to care when, lying in a hospital bed annoyed at the starchy sheets, his captain walked in. He was a tall, well-built man, by the name of Intae Jang who was known for his cold stare but a kind heart. At least, when you did your job right. And, for now, that was someone Youngjae had failed at. Captain Intae was decidedly less scary when in street clothes though and the young special agent was grateful for that. 

“So you stumble in here, just outside of gang territory, beaten all to hell, and you say you fell? Son, those injuries don’t come from falling.” He grabbed a plastic chair and brought it close to Youngjae and as he sat, his arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

Still in character, still Lee Youngjae, the young officer grimaced and sat up the best he could. Nothing was broken but his ribs were bruised up pretty bad so sitting would be difficult for a while. “I’m a pretty clumsy person.”

“Are you going to tell me the truth or not?”

“Are you going to believe me or not?” Youngjae countered, daringly. Normally he wouldn’t ever back talk his supervisor, however, in this case, the captain had no relationship to him at all. And if anything he was supposed to hate this man with every fiber of his being. Despite the fact, he raised Youngjae up to the level that he was.

The subtle smile on Intae’s face was enough to tell Youngjae that he wasn’t in any trouble. “No, I’m not. I don’t like trouble being stirred up in my city Mr. Lee. When you’re ready to give me a real answer,” He stood and handed him a card with his office number. The dissatisfied look on the captain’s face when Youngjae didn’t look at the card before placing it on the stand next to his bed nearly made the young officer laugh. That meant he was playing his part almost too well. He watched as the captain straightened his shirt, gave Youngjae a nod, then turned on his heel, and left the room without another word. Youngjae just hoped his outright defiance wouldn’t get him in trouble later. 

Exactly three minutes later a lanky nurse that had introduced himself as Jinyoung earlier walked in, a warm smile on his lips and the clipboard clutched firmly in his hand. He checked on Youngjae’s bandages quietly and after making sure everything was in order, the strangely quiet nurse spoke. “How are you feeling Mr. Lee?”

Youngjae shifted awkwardly, the scratching of the starchy sheets filling the silence of the room. “Um…better I guess. Can I be released soon?”

Jinyoung set his lips in a firm line and looked at the clipboard. “Well, you don’t have anything broken or internal bleeding and as such, there seems to be no real reason to hold you overnight. But someone will need to sign you out, the doctor doesn’t want you to drive or walk much.”

Groaning, Youngjae fell back into the bed, ignoring the concern from the nurse and the pain in his ribs. There was no way he would be able to maintain his cover as the new kid in town if he was able to call someone. Even if none of Jepp’s men were here he was a very dedicated undercover agent. He did everything to stay in character. The nurse gave up after a few minutes and Youngjae was left to his thoughts. He needed to come up with a plan to get out of here, then draw Blackman’s attention again. All he needed was to clear his head and think. 

Several hours later when the sun was starting to set and he still had no idea how to get out of the hospital, Youngjae’s aggravation level started to rise. And he was about to resign himself to a night in the hospital when the nurse came back in, this time with another boy, about the same height as Youngjae, and with dark brown hair. But the most noticeable thing about him was his dark eyes, staring at Youngjae with a cold calculation like he didn’t want to be there but had no other choice. 

“Looks like your friend is here to pick you up. I’ll just need you to sign this release form,” the nurse Jinyoung stepped forward and smiled brightly at Youngjae as he handed the confused male a clipboard. Signing the form Youngjae’s eyes continued to flicker towards the unnamed male whose expression hadn’t changed. “Alright, you’re free to go,” Jinyoung broke the silence after the clipboard was back in his hands and turned to the other male whose expression instantly morphed into a smile, the curve of his eyes turning into crescents. “Thank you for coming by, Daehyun, I’m sure your friend,” the continued use of friend was starting to concern the injured male, “Youngjae appreciates it. Keep an eye on him alright?” 

And when Youngjae made a small, confused sound of agreement Jinyoung headed straight for the door without another word. The awkward atmosphere seemed to tickle Youngjae’s throat and he coughed once, twice, then stood and grabbed his clothes folded neatly on the side table. He wanted to tell the other male to turn around so he could change, but something told him that was not a good idea. 

Just as he removed his shirt, the other spoke, Busan accent apparent, “You’re a dumbass, you know?”

Trying to stay as calm as possible, Youngjae continued to change and responded, “What did I do?”

The male chortled and shook his head in disbelief. “You really are a dumbass. Hurry up, I’d like to get back before the others order dinner.” 

Youngjae didn’t respond but there wasn’t really a need. He knew it was something that had to do with Jepp Blackman and the male glaring at him had to be one of the lesser-known members of the file. All the agency knew was their Street Coordinator and possibly gun supplier originated from Busan and Youngjae, for now, could only assume for now this Daehyun person was the one. There were others in the inner circle Youngjae needed to gather information on but this was a start.

Smoothing out the wrinkles on his shirt, Youngjae looked over at Daehyun who smirked, turned away from him, and left the room expecting Youngjae to keep up. Though he was in pain, he matched Daehyun’s quick pace out the hospital, to the subway station three blocks down, and wiggled his way in the over-packed car next to his stoic guide. Three stops later, Daehyun grabbed the agent’s arm and dragged him out of the subway car and through the crowds, to the heart of Soul Connection territory. A place no officer had escaped from without injury in years. Now he was going in injured. Though it felt like his abdomen was on fire Youngjae didn’t dare to complain. He didn’t completely understand what was happening but knew, one false step and the entire operation would be shattered. 

Bystanders passed by muttering to themselves and even shot him and Daehyun, who had yet to release his arm, a few odd glances. There was no time to apologize however as Youngjae was half dragged to a shop. A flower shop to be exact, with all the sweet aromas that would usually calm the officer. In fact, it was a flower shop he frequented for various holidays and other days throughout the year when he was on this side of town. A strange kind of panic bubbled up in his throat. What if they already knew who he was? What if they were planning to kill him?

Daehyun spoke briefly with the shopkeeper. Youngjae was too preoccupied with his ponderings to realize their constant glances at him. So when he was shoved into a room he hadn’t noticed before, he nearly fell face first into the wooden floor. First, his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, one bulb hung from above but the source was nearly burnt out. Second, the smoke assaulted his senses and burned his eyes as he fought back the instinct to cough. And finally, he realized Jepp Blackman was sitting on a desk just under the light, with one foot propped up on a chair and his hand resting on that leg’s knee, with a half burnt cigarette between his lips. 

Neither spoke for several minutes and sweat pooled to Youngjae’s brow, the small beads running down the side of his face. He didn’t dare to speak first, even if it wanted to because he didn’t know what to say. “Sit,” Jepp demanded in a gruff voice, pushing the chair out towards Youngjae, the scraping against the wood hurting the younger male’s ears. But he listened. Though he was still careful to remain quiet, the file said Jepp hated being interrupted and there was no telling when the man would start talking. 

“Do you know why I saved your scrawny ass before?” The question was rhetorical but Youngjae shook his head regardless. “You probably don’t know how this works so I’ll explain it in baby terms. Dragons like to hang around that little shop, it’s my territory but I don’t care. They don’t bother the workers or customers and keep to themselves. Prevents major problems. Then there’s a little brat like you.” Youngjae couldn’t see it well but he knew Jepp’s eyes were scanning him over. “Hardly fit to make threats and you’re fucking around with Dragons?” Scoffing, Jepp took a drag of his cigarette before taking it out of his mouth, letting it hang loosely between his middle and pointer fingers. “I hate unnecessary fighting on my turf. It’s bad for business. I am a businessman, after all, a Chairman of the Board if you will. That is the only reason I saved your ass.” 

Youngjae already knew all of this. But he couldn’t tell if that was the whole story or if the hardened Jepp Blackman really did have a soft spot for sob stories. Another scoff left the leader’s lips and he slid off the desk, walking around the small room. His footsteps were heavy against the floor and Youngjae swore he could almost count a beat in the way Jepp moved. “Your first mistake was attacking the men you were just saved from.” Another pause. “And the second was not finishing the job so your name doesn’t get out. Now they’ve got a mark on you. Congrats kiddo.” A shiver crawled up Youngjae’s spine. It didn’t take a genius to know what a mark was and he had a few choice words for those idiots who were on his damn payroll. Yet, he could use this to his advantage if he was smart. 

“Now they blame me for it.” There was a soft click and it seemed even the smoke in the air froze as Jepp placed the muzzle of the gun against the back of Youngjae’s head. “I should kill you for causing a mess. In fact,” he trailed off, and although Youngjae knew he wasn’t tied to the chair and knew he could fight the male and live a few more seconds, he couldn’t move. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or curiosity but his limbs refused all commands. The pressure against his skull increased and suddenly the idea of striking a bargain seemed tempting. Then another click and with a sharp intake of breath, Youngjae lurched forward and he swore he could feel Jepp smirking behind him. An empty gun. “But I do that and that’ll start a war. I let you go and they’ll make a point to take care of you in my territory. And start a war.”

Youngjae wanted to respond, he wasn’t sure what to say but he wanted to do something, anything. Even if he was getting over a near-death experience, he did not want to appear weak. He could not appear weak, even if this was just a character he was playing. Jepp was silent as he walked back to the table and sat down, flicking his burnt out cigarette away. Youngjae took that time to gather himself and meet the leader’s eyes. “So what will you do?” He felt like that was the wrong thing to say. 

The grin on Jepp’s face surprised the younger male but he didn’t let that show. “I hope you’ve never had any reservations about joining a gang, brat. You’d make a good runner.” A snap of his fingers and suddenly a black bag covered Youngjae’s head. Then, for the first time in years, he didn’t know what was going to happen next. And it was terrifying.

His emotions couldn’t bubble over though as he was hit over the head with what he assumed to be the gun and blacked out. Hours later he didn’t wake up tied to a chair or on the floor of some abandoned room. To his utter shock, he awoke in a surprisingly soft bed, with a sheet thrown haphazardly over him. The sheets didn’t exactly smell like summer rain like his own did, but they were soft and comforting nonetheless. When the musty smell of a garage and motor oil assaulted his senses, he realized that he was not at home or in the office break room and a mixture of pride and fear gripped him. Pride because he had started his infiltration and fear because, well, there was quite a lump on the back of his head, and there was no telling how long they’d let him live.

Opening his eyes, Youngjae stared up at the high, grey ceiling debating on if he should get out of this apparent safe haven and face his new “gang”. The pounding of his head told him to stay put but as footsteps drew closer, he found himself automatically sitting up and gingerly touching the back of his head. Because he was scared to let them wake him up in whatever way they could concoct. 

The heavy footsteps stopped in front of his door. There was silence for a few seconds followed by the crinkling of a plastic bag and muffled curse words. However, Youngjae could only guess what he said based on the tone due to the quietness of the person’s voice and his pounding headache. This person mumbled a few more words before the door swung open, hitting the wall with a slight thud. Youngjae looked up from the bed sheets and regarded the male at the door. He had that kind of face that you wouldn’t expect to see in a place like this. His expression was perfectly schooled to an unimpressed grimace; but his eyes, even from across the room Youngjae could see how lifeless they were like he had seen something worse than Youngjae could imagine. It made his stomach turn. 

“And here I was hoping to use some creative way to wake you.” That did not surprise Youngjae, he didn’t know who this was one was but if he was part of a gang then he certainly wouldn’t let a troublemaker rest well. Youngjae tentatively touched the back of his head and winced, again unsurprised by the annoyed expression that covered the others face. A few seconds later the bag that was in the other male’s hands landed in his lap. “Lunch and clothes. You stick out like a fucking tourist.” 

Before the boy could even look up, the cold-eyed male was out the room, letting the door slam behind him without a care. A slight frown turned Youngjae’s lips as he looked down at his black pants and coral blue shirt. “Tourist my ass.” Peering into the bag, he found two pork dumplings based on the smell, and what looked like a large, black t-shirt and jeans. Taking out the small box and setting it beside him, he pulled out the shirt and held it up for inspection. There wasn’t anything special about it, there wasn’t a design or even a label inside the shirt but it had the faint smell of smoke and alcohol. Something he figured that he would have to get used to quickly. Grimacing, he tossed the shirt away and picked up the box, paused for a moment, then opened it. His lips twitched upwards for a few seconds when he spotted the bit of pork sticking out from the dumpling, his assumption correct.

Just as he took a bite, the door swung open again revealing the male from before with his hand on the doorknob and an annoyed grimace on his features. “Fifteen minutes,” his voice was gruff and tired. Then he was gone again. Without a thought, Youngjae scrunched his nose at the door and muttered incoherently before the delicious smelling dumplings demanded his attention.

Fifteen minutes later, Daehyun was the one to barge into the room, looking as though he was ready to yell, but stopped short when he realized that Youngjae had already changed and eaten. To Youngjae’s surprise, however, Daehyun didn’t speak. He did, however, grab the other’s wrist and jerked him towards the door and Youngjae, in shock, allowed it. Outside the room was what Youngjae assumed to be the break room of a mechanic shop. One, dirty couch with some of its stuffing coming out, anchored by two, equally unattractive chairs that looked as though they were haphazardly thrown to the middle of the room and no one bothered to move them afterward. The one on the couch, Zelo, looked up as Daehyun pulled Youngjae towards the stairs, the amused smirk obvious on his mouth. The young cop had to admit the glint in the other’s eyes was unnerving.

Finally yanking his wrist from Daehyun’s grasp, he met the quiet member’s gaze evenly when he looked back with a glare. When Youngjae didn’t back down, Daehyun rolled his eyes, then turned and started up the stairs again. The confidence boost that Youngjae felt didn’t last long. At the top of the stairs, a table littered with notes and maps caught his attention. The walls were lined with notes as well that Youngjae realized they were plans; plans for cases he had yet to crack. Instincts demanded he snatch all the paperwork and run but he dragged his feet forward instead. He wasn’t even an official member of the gang, he couldn’t blow his cover now. 

They walked down two more hallways, the musty scent of motor oil fading as they continued; replaced with another smell that Youngjae couldn’t quite place. Daehyun stopped at the seventh door on the left in the second hallway, opened it and walked it, not bothering to hold the door out for Youngjae as he went. It was another hallway, shorter than all the rest, but the smell of the garage was nearly gone now. 

Daehyun pulled a large ring of keys out of his pocket as they approached the end of the hallway and he stopped at the last door on the left. And as the slightly shorter boy fiddled with the several locks Youngjae couldn’t hide the confusion on his face. Why would they take him from one room to another without explanation? This wasn’t something the files talked about. Then again, the files being pathetically empty was why Youngjae was here.

“Wait here until we get you. And keep quiet will you?” 

Youngjae, still not in control of his expression looked from Daehyun to the bare room and back to Daehyun wanting to say something but unsure of what it was exactly. Eventually, he gave up and shuffled into the room. The door slammed behind him and he waited to move until after the locks clicked back into place and Daehyun’s footsteps faded away.

He wished there was something to describe the room with, anything at all. But there was nothing. No furniture, no cracks in the wall, nothing at all. Except the fact it was white. Blindingly so. As if this was the only room that didn’t suffer from smoking and whatever else it is Soul Connection members like to do in their spare time. With a heavy sigh, he looked up at the ceiling and kept his eyes on the lights as he shuffled around trying to find a spot to lie down. He gave up quickly and settled for the far left corner, lay down and rested his arm over his eyes. The only problem with this, however, was that he seemed to pick the one area that had a slight smell of bleach. While that made no sense to him, he was unwilling to move, his limbs heavy and his motivation to move diminished. Perhaps he would grow accustomed to the smell and rest again, he felt tired from his injuries that still snapped at his nerves with sudden, sharp pains. 

But he couldn’t quite get comfortable; knowing he was in the house of Soul Connection and all their plans were right at his fingertips raced through his mind. Questions he couldn’t ask beat against his brain and emotions he didn’t want to admit bubbled under his skin. He had never felt this anxious about an undercover case before. An undercover case had never been this important before. And how long would it take for them to come back? He knew nothing of their initiation process. Perhaps they were in the middle of a meeting with the Dragon’s leader to assuage the ‘tension’. Not that it would matter any, the leader was already in on this mission, he’d play his part well. Perhaps they were trying to break him. That thought was enough to keep him from reaching peace and sleep firmly at bay. Would they keep him here all night? With no clock to inform him, no phone to distract him from himself and boredom he felt like an eternity already passed. At least the other room had several cracks in the wall, and then he could at least imagine how they formed. Here it was too bright to look around without getting a headache. This forced Youngjae to rely only on his thoughts to pass the time, however long it would be. Dangerous endeavor really. 

Since his thoughts centered on his mission and running over the details of the persona he was to keep, he couldn’t risk his voice keeping him company. Within the confines of this small room with only his imagination as his guard, he hoped to find a new way in which to gain their trust now that he was sure to gain the label of a useless rookie. And really, as he looked back on the day’s events, everything went a lot better than he could have hoped for. Considering there was no one already inside the gang to assist in infiltration also boosted his ego slightly. But damn, his bruised ribs hurt.

Typically, laying in one spot for long didn’t bother Youngjae. He did it often when he was sick or when something was troubling him. Usually, in a similar position to the one, he was in. Unfortunately, time was not on his side today. The hands on his imaginary clock moved like arthritis, his limbs started to feel numb, and when his stomach began to give low, rumbling protests he began to wonder how much longer until they would come. But he wouldn’t try to get their attention, that showed weakness he wasn’t willing to give in to.

Some hours later just as Youngjae was finally numb enough to start to doze off, a swift kick to his side knocked him from the blissfully quiet mind he achieved and he lurched upward. His arm fell to his side and the light blinded him for a moment. Every inch of his skin felt like it was being pinched with each small movement. “Come on rookie, you’ve got a job to do.” Although the voice sounded distant, Youngjae recognized it as Jepp’s. Shaking his head, Youngjae looked away from the light wall in front of him and turned his head to the left to find Jepp, Zelo, Daehyun, the guy from before, and one new one that Youngjae could only assume was the final member of the inner circle.

“What job?” He questioned, his voice sounding foreign and strained to his ears after so many hours of silence. As he stood, he swore his bones creaked and the pinching sensations had him involuntarily grimacing in a manner he hoped they hadn’t noticed. The grin on Jepp’s lips told him otherwise. 

Jepp shot a look to Zelo who nodded and walked back to the door. Youngjae, unsure, watched as Zelo opened the door and two men dragged someone in with a black bag over their face. Another followed behind with a chair and some rope and as soon as they forced the bagged man into the chair, the rope was tied securely around his chest. 

Youngjae stood frozen, he knew what Jepp wanted before he even asked but he wasn’t sure he could do it. Maybe when he was in the right state he’d follow character easily. But now he was hungry, thirsty, tired, numb and noticeably distorted. And it was in that moment that Youngjae realized why they locked him in this room. They wanted to see what he would do in a vulnerable state, and what better way to do that than have him kill on command. He knew the fear shone on his face, but he couldn’t stop it. Even as he walked forward with Jepp and the three other followers he wasn’t sure how sure of a shot he’d be. He didn’t want this man, whoever he was, to suffer.

Although he knew it wasn’t the best idea, Youngjae looked for anything to try and identify who this man was. There was nothing. No rings, scars or distinctive marks, and he usually wasn’t one to notice someone’s clothing style. He was given another minute to stir in his guilt before Jepp snapped his fingers and Daehyun--who Youngjae didn’t notice before, held out a gun for Youngjae, one with a small marking of a bunny head with a mask, the symbol of the gang. “I want you to take that gun and shoot him.”

For a moment, Youngjae hesitated before taking the gun and held it carefully in his hand, half admiring the look and feel of it. “Who is he?”

The annoyance in Jepp’s voice was clear as he spoke, “I gave you an order, follow it.”

Taking a deep breath through his nose, Youngjae pulled back the slide, pointed the gun straight at the man’s heart, and wondered if the others could see the way his hands were shaking. Not wanting to think about it, Youngjae squeezed the trigger his upper lip curling as blood started to stain the man’s shirt. He missed his heart by several inches and now the man was whimpering, and trying to pull the rope tying him down. Jepp stepped forward and leaned towards Youngjae, his lips close to the agent’s ear, “You hesitate like that again and you’ll be the one in that chair.” The leader stepped back and added in a harsh voice, “Again.” As if he just awoke from some dream-like state, Youngjae didn’t hesitate. With a surer hand, he raised the gun to the man’s heart and the bullet hit its mark flawlessly. Youngjae would have been proud if he didn’t feel sick.

Zelo, who was still standing by the shot man, checked his pulse and nodded to Jepp whose smirk widened and he clapped Youngjae on the back. “Himchan set ‘em up after dinner. For now, feed the rookie brat, and get him his things, I like my people to look happy when I’m having a good day. Jongup, Z, clean the mess.” With that, he walked out of the room, Daehyun and the unnamed ones who brought the body in on his tail. 

Humming softly, the newly named member walked over to Zelo and together they grabbed the body and carried it out of the room. So that was Jongup then, Youngjae didn’t know what his position was but at least he knew could put a face to the name. The one that had given Youngjae the food and clothes, who he now knew as Himchan, sighed and pulled both Youngjae’s phone and wallet from his pocket. “Your roommate has been texting nonstop. Tell him to get a job or something.” Youngjae couldn’t help but smile at the annoyance in Himchan’s voice and took the items from the male’s outstretched hands.

“Sorry, he’s going through a rough time right now.” 

Himchan snorted and walked out of the room, leaving Youngjae by himself. Letting out a sigh of relief, he brought up the messages on his phone. All of them asking when he would be home for the night, his reply was simple; Sorry man meeting up with some friends won’t be back tonight. His roommate or rather his partner always played the concerned roommate flawlessly. He would know exactly what that message meant; infiltration complete, going dark.


End file.
